2,198 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Chap. Copyright No. 

Shelf.I!,_§_.?'^'^^ 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



SOLDIER SONGS 



AND 



LOVE SONGS 



BY 



A. H. LAIDLAW 



PRESS OF 

William R. Jenkins 

NEW YORK 






1 1 v> 



Copyright, 1898, by 
A. H. LAIDLAW 



[All Rights Reserved] 

2nd OOl-!\ 
1 






TO THE 

SOLDIERS AND SAILORS 

OF THE 

UNITED STATES 
THE TWO ARMS OF AMERICAN SALVATION 



CONTENTS. 



1. Custer, .... 

2. The American Girl, . 

3. The Good Ship "Ohio," . 

4. The American Girls, . 

5. The Union Oath, . 

6. Betsie Brown, . 

7. Sword of Jehovah, 

8. Black Eyes, . . "" . 

9. The American Qa Ira, 

10. Bird of the Sum^iering North, 

11. The War Song of William the Conqueror 

12. The Light of Your Beautiful Eyes, 

13. Babylon, ..... 

14. The British Gyp, 

15. Death Song of the Enfants Perdus, . 

16. Fare thee well, Love of Woman, 

17. Ever to Be, .... 

18. Jock and Jean, 

19. The Flag of Brothers, . 

20. With a Ho-Ho-Ho! . 

21. See, the Field of Battle Gleams, 

22. The Dying Soldier to the Nightingale, 

23. Burke of the Brave Brigade, . 



PAGH 
1 

2 

4 
5 

8 

9 

11 

12 

13 
16 
17 
19' 
20 
23. 

24 

25 
27 
28 
31 
83 
34 
36 
37 



VI 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

24. Tears, Tears, 39 

25. Sherry ix the Saddle, . . . .40 

26. Home, Home, ..... 43 

27. The Custer Wail, . . . .43 

28. Weep Not For Him, .... 46 

29. Tarry Ye Not in Egypt, . . .47 
80. GiF A Lassie Spurn a Laddie, . , 49 

31. The American Consummation, , . .50 

32. The Young A^ets, .... 53 

33. Maiden Knickerbocker and the Gallant 

Captain Pickwick, . . . .53 

34. It is Time to Begin to Conclude, . . 55 

35. Marshal Ney's Farewell, . . .57 

36. The Lily Land of France, ... 60 

37. The Three P's : The Pratie, the Pig and 

Poteen, . . . . .61 



PEEFACE. 



In issuing this collection of Songs, the author makes 
the following acknowledgments : — 

" The American (Ja ira " was suggested while read- 
ing the French song of that name, from which song 
the phrase ga ira alone was appropriated. 

In "The Song of William the Conqueror," his 
characteristic oath, "By the splendor of God!" is 
used. 

In the "Death Song of the Enfants Perdus," a few 
remembered lines or fragments have been appro- 
priated from an anonymous and almost forgotten 
English ballad. 

"Burke of the Brave Brigade" was written in 
memory of the late Dennis F. Burke, the last com- 
mander of the Irish Brigade in the battle of Gettys- 
burg. 

"The Custer Wail" was composed in a dream, in 
1877. 

In the last two stanzas of "Marshall Ney's Fare- 
well," his own language translated is used in nearly 
half the lines. The first line of this poem is the 



Vlll 



PREFACE 



expression used by Napoleon, on his voyage to St, 
Helena, when sighting the shore of France for the 
last time. 

*'The Lily Land of France" was suggested by the 
Prench song, "Partant pour la Syrie," from which 
nothing was appropriated but the accentual move- 
ment. 

Except in the above mentioned instances, the songs 
here collected were composed without finding a model 
or a suggestion in any other WTiter. 

The ''Soldier Songs" and the "Love Songs" are 
printed alternately. 

A. H. LAIDLAW. 



SONGS 



SONGS. 

CUSTER. 

Foiled on the field with his dead boys around him, 
All waiting for Earth to recover her own, 

Fortune hath missed him, but Glory hath found him^ 
While fighting a thousand fierce foemen alone. 

Custer's the right wing, the left and the center, 
Himself is his only reserve and supply. 

This is a battle for Spartans to enter. 
Where One makes an army to conquer or die. 

Straight on his steed doth he meet the grim battle, 
The red line of danger grows deadly and large. 

Loud from the hills rings the rifleman^ rattle, 
But Custer is ready, so forward and charge ! 

Firing with left hand, and fencing with right, 

The reins in his teeth, like a handless young Hun, 

What is his fate in the terrible fight ? 

The thousands hath slain him, yet Custer hath won.- 

His foemen still seek him in terror and wonder, 
Ahve in the tempest that darkens the vale ; 

His charge they still fear in the echoing thunder, 
His sword in the lightning, his voice in the gale. 



SOXGS 



THE AMERICAIS' GIRL. 

The maid for man to love, 
All other forms above, 
Is she whose home adorns the loam of this fair land 

of mine : 

American in sire, 
She's born of love and fire, 
And dominates the heart of man as by a right divine. 

By rhyming swain pursued, 
She meets the puling dude, 
Whose hopes to win are centered in his pale Platonic 
plan; 

American in heart. 
She spurns his petty part. 
Then speeds him to the army mess to prove himself a 
man. 

"With tact burned in the bone. 
She stands herself, alone. 
The peer of peers of ancient years, for highest func- 
tions fit ; 

American in head. 
Who woos her, she 7nay wed, 
If he hath grace, and wit, and worth, and sense, and 
soul and grit. 



SOXGS 3 

Alive, alert and sweet, 

In rounded poise, complete. 
Come any dav -what will or may, she meets the world 
at par; 

American in soul. 

She Ijrooks no man's control, 
But brings to one a. crystal love as stainless as a star. 

"Who wins, she weds, retains. 
She lives, she loves, she reigns 
Through home and hall, and over all the sovereign of 
the scene; 

American in dower, 
She knows her native power. 
And holds the heart of him she loves, a Woman and 
a Queen. 



SONGS 



THE GOOD SHIP "OHIO." 

Swift o^er the lee when the wind flies free, 

Follows the ship " Ohio," 
With skies o'ercast she bends to the blast, 

Like a billowy bird she can fly, O, 
And she'll leave all behind in a whispering wind 

As soft as a maiden's sigh, O. 
Or when o'er the Lakes the storm-cloud breaks. 

And the waves scoop their murderous hollow, 
While the weaker ship to its mooring must slip 

And safe in a harbor wallow. 
In the front of the storm she fills her white form, 

And the demons of danger follow. 

O for the life 'mid the storm and the strife 

Of sailor and storm and billow ! 
Far be my bed from the lubberly dead 

That sleep near the wailing willow, 
But give me the grave of the mutinous wave 

With its heaving and whistling pillow. 
Down from the skies look the spectral eyes 

Of our kelpie, sprite and bewailer, 
And gathering in crowds by the shivering shrouds, 

They croon while our cheeks grow paler. 
And they sing as they sweep o'er the clamorous deep; 

"We love the hot heart of a sailor!" 



SONGS 5» 



THE AMERICAN GIRLS. 

Tes ! The land we love 
Is a land of pretty girls, 

In grand variety ; 
With their many colored eyes 
And their multi-colored curls, 

They'll steal thy heart from thee. 

If you travel in the North, 
One will gleam in glory forth. 

With her blue eyes, O, so blue I 
And her flash of golden hair 
Will be flirting in the air, 

While entrancing all the soul in you. 
Oho! My Boy! Oho! 
Always for your weal and never for your woe, 
Tour little heart will gallop on the go. 

And it will not give you rest 

Within your manly breast. 
Till you land yourself in toto at her toe. 
Oho! My Boy! Oho! 

If you travel in the South, 
Tou will find a rosy mouth, 
And a black eye, O so black ! 



6 SONGS 

And some strands of raven hair 
Will purloin your heart just there, 
And you'll never get the poor thing back. 
Oho! My Boy! Oho! Etc. 



If you travel in the East, 
Your dear soul will have a feast 

On a sweet eye, O so sweet ! 
And a most seductive curl 
Will there give your heart a twirl 

That will fling you at two queenly feet. 
Oho! My Boy! Oho! Etc. 



If you travel in the West, 

One shy glance will pierce your breast 

From a bright eye, O so bright ! 
And an auburn heaven of hair 
Will so glorify the air, 

You'll surrender all your soul at sight. 
Oho! My Boy! Oho! 
Always for your weal and never for your woe, 
Your little heart will gallop on the go, 

And it will not give you rest 

Within your manly breast, 
Till you land yourself in toto at her toe. 
Oho! My Boy! Oho! 



SONGS 

Thus, the land we love 
Is a land of pretty girls, 

In grand yariety ; 
With their many colored eyes 
And their multi-colored curls, 

They'll steal thy heart from thee. 



SONGS 



THE UNION OATH. 

By the Revolution's dead, 
By their Blood in battle shed, 
By the Earth that drank their gorOj, 
By the Heaven in which they soar, 
By the Union Stripe and Star, 
By the God of Righteous War, 

Swear to conquer, or to die ! 
Swear to conquer, 
Swear to conquer, 

Swear to conquer now, or die ! 

By the Revolution's dead, 
By their Blood in battle shed, 
By the Earth that drank their gore^ 
By the Heaven in which they soar, 
By the Union Stripe and Star, 
By the God of Righteous War, 

We will conquer now, or die ! 
We will conquer ! 
We will conquer ! 

We will conquer now, or die I 



SONGS a 



BETSIE BROWN. 

I HAVE loved you all my days, 

Betsie Brown, 
And I'll never cease to praise 

Betsie Brown; 
Still must I break love's tie, 

To act a patriot part, 
But I'll yield thee, as I die, 
The last throb of my heart, 
Betsie Brown ! 

Por my country let me die, 

Betsie Brown, 
And never grieve nor cry, 

Betsie Brown, 
But lay me down to sleep 

Where my country's tempests rave, 
"Where its mountain moss can creep 
O'er an humble patriot's grave, 
Betsie Brown ! 

And should my boy, with thee, 

Betsie Brown, 
By my grave once bend the knee, 

Betsie Brown, 



1© SONGS 

Teach him to bleed or die 
For his country or his God, 

Like him whose ashes he 
Beneath the loving sod, 
Betsie Brown ! 



SONGS 11 



SWORD OF JEHOVAH. 

Sword of Jehovah, swing 
O'er the world's ravening, 
Wide on the tempest's wing, 

Swing far ! Swing free ! 
Where the mailed hand is set, 
Braced to the bayonet. 
Bloody and warm and wet, 

Swing far ! Swing free ! 

Strike where the sordid great 
Revel in royal state, 
Liberty desolate, 

Strike far ! Strike free ! 
Where the King's coursers champ. 
Where the mailed millions tramp, 
Ringed round the tyrant's camp, 

Strike far ! Strike free ! 

Fall where the Kaiser stands, 
Guarded by gory bands. 
Known by their bloody hands, 

Fall far! Fall free! 
Till the last Despots die. 
Till the Christ, hfted high, 
Consummates Destiny, 

Fall far! Fall free! 



12 SONGS 



BLACK EYES. 

The Blue Eye will do if the courting is through 

And the way of the marriage is sunny, 
And it helps in the fun till the sweet life is done 

If the girl brings a mint of good money. 
But when aft or before the good parson's front door, 

With calm or a storm on the track ; 
For Love red, red hot, with the ducats or not, 

There is never an eye Uke the Black. 

The Hazel is true to you all the way through, 

And it burns with a light warm and steady ; 
Only if it is Fred that she has in her head, 

It is burning for no one but Freddie. 
But the Black Eye will veer and stake kingdoms to spear 

Whatever it likes on the track. 
And as a love-lance to its lord in the dance 

There is never an eye like the Black. 

Here then is good health and without or with wealth 

To the deep raven eye of my charmer ! 
It's a heavenly spell when it loves very well, 

Only when it does not it is warmer. 
And it's little I care, only so I get there, 

Whichever I find on the track. 
For Heaven or Hell in its magical spell 

There is never an eye like the Black. 



SONGS 13 



THE AMERICAN QA IRA. 

With a sullen, setting Sun, 

It will come ! 
With the days of Despots done, 

It will come ! 
With a sullen, setting Sun, 
With the days of Despots done. 
With the wrath of Grod begun. 

It will come ! 

It will come ! 

With a ruddy, bloody Moon, 

It will come ! 
With remorseless slaughter soon, 

It will come ! 
With a ruddy, bloody Moon, 
AVith remorseless slaughter soon, 
With our Tyrants stripped and strewn, 

It will come ! 

It will come ! 

With a meteoric glare. 

It will come ! 
With Destruction in the air. 

It will come ! 



14 SO^GS 

With a meteoric glare, 
With Destruction in the air, 
With the vengeance of Despair, 

It will come ! 

It will come ! 

With abasement of the proud, 

It will come ! 
With the last King's crimson shroud, 

It will come ! 
With abasement of the proud, 
With the last King's crimson shroud, 
But with Christ within the cloud, 

It will come ! 

It will come ! 

With the merry Morning Stars, 

It will come ! 
With the end of royal wars, 

It will come ! 
With the merry Morning Stars, 
With the end of royal wars, 
With the last of scourging Tsars, 

It will come ! 

It will come ! 

Yea ! An angel from the fight. 
It will come ! 



SONGS 15 



With fair Liberty in light, 

It will come ! 
Yea ! An angel from the fight, 
With fair Liberty in light, 
Linked with Everlasting Right, 

It will come ! 

It will come ! 

By the Christ who hears our cries, 

It will come ! 
By the Spirit of the Skies, 

It will come ! 
By the Christ who hears our cries. 
By the Spirit of the Skies, 
By the God who never lies. 

It will come ! 

It will come ! 

With a place for you and me, 

It will come ! 
At the feastings of the Free, 

It will come ! 
With a place for you and me, 
At the feastings of the Free, 
With eternal Jubilee, 

It will come ! 

It will come ! 



16 SONGS 



BIRD OF THE SUMMERING NORTH. 

Bird of the summering North, 

Whither away? 
Fly you so gaily forth 

Simply to stay 
Nested in northern bowers 
Till the late flushing flowers 
Turn in October hours 

Ashen and gray? 

Bear, then, this message, Dove, 

When you depart, 
Safe to my northern Love, 

Quick ! Like a dart ! 
Bill her and coo her this 
Seal of triumphant bhss, 
One young, immortal kiss, 

Hot from my heart. 

Then, in the autumn time. 

Tailing the pole, 
From my Love's cooling clime 

Make me your goal ; 
Flash to this field of Fame, 
Linked with her darling name, 
All her concordant flame. 

Deep from her soul. 



SONGS 17' 



THE WAR SONG OF WILLIAM THE 
CONQUEROR. 

**JBy the splendor of God!'''' was a characteristic oath 
of William the Conqueror. 

By the splendor of God ! We come ! We come ! 
To fight to the death for Old England's crown, 
To reign by God's grace or in gore go down. 
By the splendor of God ! We come ! We come ! 
Sword in hand, by a King who dares 
To fight that God and our Right be made 
Our Right Divine by a bloody blade, 
Sword in hand, by a King who dares. 
By a King who dares. 

By the splendor of God ! We come ! We come ! 
In swoop for fierce fiesh, like a bird of prey. 
In scent of the blood of the brave to-day, 
By the splendor of God ! We come ! We come ! 
Sword in hand, for the Love of God ! 
Since blood is holy and royal wine, 
Advance! Drink health to the Norman line^ 
Sword in hand, for the Love of God I 
For the Love of God ! 



18 SONGS 

By the splendor of God ! We come ! We come ! 
Beware of the shock of the serried rank ! 
Beware of the brand of the fiery Frank ! 
By the splendor of God! We come! We come! 
Sword in hand, by the Grace of God, 
We fight till death for Old England's crown, 
Till Harold, or We, with our crowns, go down, 
Sword in hand, by the Grace of God ! 
By the Grace of God ! 

By the splendor of God ! We come! We come! 
To fight to the death for Old England's crown, 
To reign by God's grace or in gore go down. 
By the splendor of God! We come! We come! 
Sword in hand, by a King who dares 
To fight that God and our Right be made 
Our Right Divine by a bloody blade. 
Sword in hand, by a King who dares. 
By a King who dares ! 



SONGS 19 



THE LIGHT OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL EYES. 

As I stroll by the stream where you stray, 

A beam is reflected afar, 
"Which seems, on the waters, a ray — 

The ray from a luminous star. 
What is it that sweetens my sight, 

That lightens the leaf-burthened skies? ■ 
Wliat is it, my Love, but the light, — 

The light of your beautiful eyes? 

As nearer and nearer I roam, 

In the month of the rosy-mouthed June, 
What is it that throws round your home 

The mirage of the mystical moon ? 
What is it that softens my sight, 

That mellows the marvellous skies? 
What is it, my Love, but the light, — 

The light of your beautiful eyes? 

As I gaze on the girl of my love. 

My ravishing, radiant one, 
There seems to shower light from above, 

And I look for the summer-time sun. 
What is it that dazzles my sight, 

That rivals the roseate skies ? 
What is it, my Love, but the light, — 

The light of your beautiful eyes? 



20 SONGS 



, BABYLON. 

Thou art mighty, 

Babylon ! 
Thou art haughty, 

Babylon ! 
Haughty, mighty, 

Babylon ! 
Through thy streets the bats shall fly, 
O'er thy ruins owls shall cry. 
All thy chivalry shall die, 

Babylon ! 

Golden-godded 

Babylon ! 
Idol-cursSd 

Babylon ! 
Idol-curs§d, golden-godded, 

Babylon ! 
All thy gods shall bite the dust. 
All thy golden godlets must 
Sink to rottenness and rust, 

Babylon ! 

Thou art royal, 

Babylon I 
Thou art ancient, 

Babylon I 



SONGS 21 

Ancient, royal, 

Babylon ! 
Royal laws and ancient lies 
Vanish when the people rise. 
Truth must live, but Falsehood dies, 

Babylon! 

Thou art sensual, 

Babylon ! 
Thou art sotted, 

Babylon ! 
Sotted, sensual, 

Babylon ! 
History this tale will tell. 
To the righteous all is well ; 
Daniel rose, Belshazzar fell, 

Babylon ! 

Thou art bloody, 

Babylon ! 
Thou art cruel, 

Babylon ! 
Cruel, bloody, 

Babylon ! 
Cain's curse on your brow is set, 
Bloodstains Gfod will not forget, 
And His curse pursues you yet, 

Babylon ! 



22 SONGS 



Thou art crumbled, 

Babylon ! 
Thou art humbled, 

Babylon ! 
Humbled, crumbled, 

Babylon ! 
Vengeance leaves no gated wall, 
Vengeance leaves no gilded hall, 
Vengeance blasts and buries all, 

Babylon ! 



SONGS 23 



THE BRITISH GYP. 

That luscious lip, the British Gryp, 

I leave to rove, a reckless ranger, 
To seek a life, with War for wife, 

Defying Death, despising danger ; 
Yet, while I speed from field to field. 

Enamored of the stranger's daughter, 
I know the best that earth can yield 

Are nested by the British water. 

Her lithe, bUthe form outbraves the storm 

That spreads disaster in its shadow. 
And when it clears, her form appears 

A flower upon the greening meadow ; 
And if, for fame, you'll have me name 

The land of most bewitching daughters, 
My heart replies, with softening sighs, 

The land begirt by British waters. 

Her starry eye lets arrows fly, 

That pierce the ice of arctic reason ; 
The kiss that thrills, the glance that kills. 

Make wild the wise and laugh at Treason; 
And when, a soldier on parade. 

Beyond the bourne of British waters, 
My eyes are on the stranger maid. 

My heart is with the English daughters. 



24 SONGS 



DEATH SONG OF THE ENFANTS PERDUS- 

'Tis here we invade the valley, 

Away from the realms of breath, 
And, in most successful sally, 

We enter the gates of death ; 
So, stand in the last line steady, 

'Tis here our true glory lies ; 
Hurrah for the dead already ! 

Three cheers for the next Avho dies I 

Though here, the wet eyes of woman 

Will fill with the falling tear. 
Yet, facing old Death, our foeman. 

We shout our reviving cheer. 
Though high beat the hearts we cherish. 

The dead we most highly prize : 
Hurrah for the first to perish ! 

Three cheers for the next who dies ! 

The earth we now leave behind us, 

The heavens now beckon before, 
Though dust of the dead may blind us^. 

We march for the shining shore ; 
!No more can our Hope deceive us, 

Our heart to it now replies, 
Hurrah for the first to leave us ! 

Three cheers for the next who dies I 



SONGS 25 



PARE THEE WELL, O LOVE OF WOMAN t 

Fare thee well, O Love of Woman ! 

Lip of Beauty, fare thee well ! 
Thy soft heart, divinely human, 

Holds me by a magic spell. 
All that grieves me now to perish 

Is the loss of one bright eye. 
And I still the vision cherish 

While I lay me down to die. 

At my headstone, kindly kneeling, 

May I beg a votive tear? 
Woman, with her pure appealing, 

Is my angel at the bier. 
J/et me have but one such linger, 

Praying Christ to help and save, 
Let me have but one dear finger 

Place a chaplet on my grave. 

Though the soldier dies in dying, 

The true lover never dies ; 
Upward, from his embers flying, 

He transfigures in the skies. 
Heaven is rare, but Love is rarer. 

Whether it be blest or crost ; 
Heaven blooms fair, but Love blooms fairer, 

But, O God, at what a cost! 



26 SONGS 

Pare thee well, O Love of Woman ! 

Lip of Beauty, fare thee well ! 
Thy soft heart, divinely human, 

Holds me by a magic spell. 
All that grieves me now to perish 

Is the loss of one bright eye. 
And I still the vision cherish 

While I lay me down to die. 



SONGS 27 



EVER TO BE. 

Ever to be 

Land of the free, 
Hold up your banner of light to the eye, 

High! High! 

Let its folds fly. 
Blessing the earth and rejoicing the sky. 

Ever to be 

Flag of the free, 
Long as the earth shows the sight of a slave, 

Wave ! Wave ! 

Mighty to save, 
Fronting the fight in the eye of the brave. 

Ever to be 

Light of the free, 
Lashed to the palm tree or nailed to the pine. 

Shine ! Shine ! 

Liberty's sign, 
Lighting the human to find the Divine. 



28 SONGS 



JOCK AND JEAN. 

JOCK. 

O'er the deep wi' me, lassie, 

Will you, will you? 
Sail the sounding sea, lassie, 
"Will you, will you? 
Where the Sacramento flows, 
'Twixt the peaks of sifted snows, 
Past the fadeless Southron rose, 
Sweeter than the heather-blows, 
Lassie, lassie? 

JEAN. 

O'er the deep wi' thee, laddie, 

Will I, will I, 
Sail the sounding sea, laddie, 

Will I, will I, 
Whether rivers fail or flow, 
Whether roses blanch or blow, 
Where thou goest, I will go. 
As your loving Jean, my Jo, 

Laddie, laddie! 



JOCK. 

O'er the deep wi' me, lassie, 
Will you, will you? 



SONGS 39 

Sail the sounding sea, lassie, 

Will you, will you? 
Where the mountains, crowned with pine, 
Dipping to the western brine. 
Shade, with everlasting vine, 
Golden grape and countless kine, 

Lassie, lassie? 

JEAN". 

O'er the deep wi' thee, laddie. 

Will I, will I, 
Sail the sounding sea, laddie. 

Will I, will I, 
Whether mountains dip or bear 
Heavenward through our future air. 
Princely feast or peasant fare, 
What thou darest, I will dare. 

Laddie, laddie! 

JOCK. 

O'er the deep wi' me, lassie, 

Will you, will you? 
Sail the sounding sea, lassie. 

Will you, will you? 
Where the lambies, on the braes, 
Gambol in the golden haze, 
And the solar disc delays 
Heaven throughout the happy days. 

Lassie, lassie? 



30 SONGS 



JEAN. 



O'er the deep wi' thee, laddie, 

Will I, wiU I, 
Sail the sounding sea, laddie, 

WiU I, will I, 
Wheresoe'er thy feet delay. 
Drenched in rain or golden spray, 
To the end of life's long day, 
I will love thee as I say, 

Laddie, laddie! 

JOCK AND JEAN. 

O'er the deep wi' thee, dearie. 

Will I, will I, 
Sail the sounding sea, dearie, 

Will I, wiU I, 
'Neath the starred or starless sky, 
Heaven is where the heart beats high, 
With a love that cannot die ; 
So we wander, you and I, 

Dearie, dearie! 



SONGS 31 



THE FLAG OF BROTHERS. 

There is blood upon the Banner, the Banner of the 

Free, 
There is blood upon our Banner, and it lies 'twixt you 

and me. 
And, like the blood of Abel, it crieth from the sod, 
And it crieth unto God throughout the Morning. 

There's a blot upon the Banner, the Banner of the 

Free, 
There's a blot upon our Banner, and it lies 'twixt you 

and me. 
And, like the soul of Samuel, it riseth from the clod, 
And it crieth unto God throughout the Nooning. 

There's a curse upon the Banner, the Banner of the 

Free, 
There's a curse upon our Banner, and it lies 'twixt 

you and me. 
And, like the curse of Cain, it scars our brows with 

pain. 
And it sears a Brother's brain throughout the E'ening. 

May the Lord now bleach this Banner, the Banner of 

the Free, 
And keep that Banner floating as a pledge 'twixt you 

and me. 



S3 SONGS 

And, like the eyes of Noah, as the Flood of Blood 

flies from us, 
May we see the Bow of Promise in the Morning. 

Our Banner, then, unsullied, this Banner of the Free, 
"Will be a Brother's Banner, held up by you and me, 
And, like a Christian people, as example unto others, 
We will wave the Flag of Brothers on that Morning. 



SONGS 3a 

WITH A HO-HO-HO ! AND A HI-HI-HI ! 

With a ho-ho-ho ! and a hi-hi-hi ! 

With a canzonet and tabor, 
Thus, with ho-ho-ho ! and our hi-hi-hi ! 

We amble, ramble, gambol, I 
And my lily-fingered neighbor. 

With a ha-ha-ha ! and a he-he-he ! 

With a joyous laugh and caper, 
Thus, with ha-ha-ha ! and our he-he-he ! 

In sunlight, moonlight, starlight, we 
Both consume our life's bright taper. 

With a hi-hi-hi ! and a ho-ho-ho ! 

With a prancing, dancing gaiter, 
Thus, with hi-hihi! and our ho-ho-ho! 

We ringing, singing, swinging, go. 
Through the glees of our Creator. 

With a he-he-he ! and a ha-ha-ha ! 

Through all spells of wind or weather, 
Thus, with he-he-he ! and our ha-ha-ha ! 

Till f railing, ailing, failing, ah ! 
We will die and lie together. 

Thus, with ho-ho-ho ! and a hi-hi-hi ! 

With a canzonet and tabor, 
Yea, with ho-ho-ho ! and our hi-hi-hi ! 

We amble, ramble, gambol, I 
And my lily-fingered neighbor. 



34 SONGS 



SEE THE FIELD OF BATTLE GLEAMS. 

See, the field of battle gleams 
Yoaward past the tented streams, 

There the foe is camping ; 
By the thirst-assuaging rill, 
From the copse behind the hill 

Hear his war-steeds champing. 

Northern Knights and Southern Sons, 
Onward to the gleaming guns ! 

Now's the hour of battle ! 
Though his files be ten to one, 
Seek the foe from sun to sun. 

Where his muskets rattle. 

O'er the walls with slaughter wet, 
O'er the ball-scarred parapet. 

Daring man and missile, 
Charge to meet his best or worst, 
Where his shrieking bombshells burst 

And his bullets whistle. 

Roll in waves of hving blue. 

Pierce the columned centre through. 

Fill the world with wonder ; 
Rush, as with a lion's will. 
Where his lightnings flash to kill 

And his cannon thunder. 



SONGS 35 

Meet him with a tiger's spring, 
Quicker than an eagle's wing, 

Where the bayonet piercest. 
When you feel the foeman's breath, 
Soldier, strike for life or death, 

Where the fight is fiercest. , 

Than a coward, proved and known, 
Better be to atoms blown. 

Where the doomed are dying. 
Welcome death in wildest way, 
But to mingle with that clay 

Where the brave are lying. 

Thus will Honor be our meed 
For some doubly daring deed 

When we end our story. 
Then in graves with roses blown, 
By the hands of patriots strown, 

We will sleep in glory. 



36 SONGS 



THE DYING SOLDIER TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 

I PLEAD with tears to thee, 

Sweet warbler of the shade, 
Breathe not such strains to me, 

The sweetest ever made. 
Who bade thee sHght my woes? 

Who taught to pierce my heart? 
Leave me to death's repose. 

Depart, sweet bird, depart. 

Still come, with every strain. 

Warm dreams of woeless days ; 
Still beam, on life's past plain. 

Love's long lost golden rays, 
That gleam on forms gone by, 

On friends I called my own, 
Who calmly rest, while I, 

Wild wandering, weep alone. 

But if thou still must sing, 

Sing of my endless woes, 
Of Life, a poisoned spring. 

Of Love, a scattered rose ; 
Wail- warble those who weep, 
Wild- warble but the brave ; 

To the wearied, sing of sleep, 
And sing, to me, the grave. 



SONGS 



BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE. 

Inscribed to Dennis F. Burke, last Commander of the 
Irish Brigade, at Gettysburg. 

THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH. 

" Why come ye to this mountain, lads, 

In panoply of war? 
Why leave ye the hills of your native heath, 

To seek these heights afar?" 

BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE. 

" We have come to unchain the slave, 

And not for a dress parade ; 
We have come to save man's flesh from the lash," 

Said Burke of the Brave Brigade. 
* ' We have heard his low cry afar, 

We have felt the self-same chain, 
And we've come, my friends, through peace or war, 
To make the land of the Union Star 

The land without a stain." 

THE SPIRIT OP THE SOUTH. 

" Go home to your native soil, 

Ye sons of the Celtic brave ; 
You will have to fight till the last man falls 

To free the Southern slave." 



38 SONGS 

BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE. 

"We have come to this fight to-day 

With no maiden, bloodless blade ; 
We have come to fight till the last man falls," 

Said Burke of the Brave Brigade. 
' ' We have felt of an iron heel, 

We have known a tyrant's hand. 
We have come to fight till the Rebels reel 
From the shotted shell of our cannon peal, 

And the hero-handled brand." 

THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH. 

' ' Then come to the battle charge ! 

Welcome the Celtic yell ! 
'Twixt you and the South, at the cannon's mouth, 

'Tis Gettysburg or HeU!" 

BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE. 

* ' Then 'tis Gettysburg Heights or Hell ! 

We are here till the game is played ; 
And a Hell he will feel who dares our steel," 

Said Burke of the Brave Brigade. 
So they fought, and the story runs 

(All thanks to the Heavenly Powers), 
That the field was won by the Celtic sons ; 
For Hell flashed Leeward from out their guns. 

And Gettysburg is ours ! 



SONGS 



TEARS, TEARS. 

Tears, tears. 
With wifely fears 
Im mixed— I lield my breath, 
My boy ! 
As down the street 
The drums did beat 
That led you to your death, 
My boy ! 

Oh! Oh! 
"Where'er I go. 
And soldier boys I see, 
My jo! 
I wis', I wis'. 
For liim whose kiss 
Was blessedness to me. 
My jo I 

Still, still. 
By wish and will. 
The land you saved, I love, 
My boy! 
Beneath a stone. 
It holds your bone, 
I'll clasp your soul above, 
My boy! 



40 SONGS 



SHERRY IN THE SADDLK 

Sherry's not in saddle, 
Sherry's not in saddle, 

Zip-zip-zip ! Zip-zip-zip I 

Rat-tat-tat ! Rat-tat-tat I 
Boys in blue skedaddle, 
Boys in blue skedaddle, 

Zip-zip-zip ! Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat ! Rat-tat-tat I 
Sherry's not in saddle, 
Sherry's not in saddle. 

The Southron gray 

Is King to-day, 
Por Sherry's not in saddle. 

Sherry's in the saddle. 
Sherry's in the saddle, 

Zip-zip-zip ! Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat ! Rat-tat-tat I 
Boys in gray skedaddle, 
Boys in gray skedaddle, 

Ziz-zip-zip ! Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat ! Rat-tat-tat I 
Sherry's in the saddle, 
Sherry's in the saddle, 



SONGS 41 



The Southron gray- 
Bites grass to-day, 
JPor Sherry's in the saddle, 

Sherry in the saddle, 
Sherry in the saddle, 

Zip-zip-zip ! Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat ! Rat-tat-ta t 
Union foes skedaddle. 
Union foes skedaddle, 

Zip-zip-zip ! Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat ! Rat-tat-tat ! 
Sherry in the saddle. 
Sherry in the saddle, 

By night or day, 

'Twixt Blue and Gray, 

There's hell to pay. 
When Sherry's in the saddle. 



.#S SONGS 



HOME! HOME! 

Home ! Home ! 

Man may roam 
While the blood of life is brimming. 
While the head's with glory swimming; 
But, when Love and Life are over, 
Bring him to the village clover, 

Home ! Home ! 

Home ! Home ! 

Bring him home. 
Where the songs of sad hearts shrive liim^ 
Where remorse no more shall rive him, 
Where the ever weeping willow 
Moults to make its leaves his pillow, 

Home ! Home ! 

Home ! Home ! 

He is home, 
Where his song was ever sounding, 
Where his blood was ever bounding. 
Here, at last, he leaves his madness^ 
All his love and all his sadness, 

Home ! Home ! 



SONGS 43 



THE CUSTER WAIL. 

Dead ! Where the bold and brave 
Blend in one bloody grave ; 
Dead ! With no coward clay 
AVeltering in gore that day. 

Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! With his boys in blue, 
Baptized in bloody dew. 
Dead ! Where his enemy 
Fled from his fearless eye. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Like a meteor, 
Flashed o'er the field of war. 
Dead ! With immortal pride. 
Glorious and glorified. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where the captives sing 
Saved by his rifle's ring. 
Dead ! Where the painted brave 
Bled by his gory glaive. 

Dead! Dead! Ah! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where the feathered game 
Fell at his deadly aim. 



44 SONGS 

Dead ! Where the buffalo 
Found him a gallant foe. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where the prairie steed 
Vainly exerts his speed. 
Dead ! Where the antlered stag 
Dies on the dizzy crag. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where the valleys sink 
Low to the river's brink. 
Dead ! Where the mountains spring 
Higher than eagle's wing. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where the solar glows 
Eastward and upward rose. 
Dead ! Where the evening's gold 
Westward and downward rolled. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where the streamy vales 
Murmur their tender tales. 
Dead ! Where the ocean's roll 
Sobs for the passing soul. 
Dead! Dead! Ah! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where the thicket's throats 
Mingle their million notes. 



SONGS 45 

Dead ! Where the forests dim 
Tone then* lone requiem. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where the eagle's scream 
Shortens the hunter's dream. 
Dead ! Where the nightingale 
Trills out her lonely tale. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where no maiden fair 
Weaves with his waving hair. 
Dead ! Where no darling sips 
Life from his loving lips. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah ! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Where no woman's breast, 
Robbed of her love and rest, 
Flower with a fading leaf, 
Sinks in her silent grief. 
Dead! Dead! Ah! — Dead to me. 

Dead ! Nevermore to be. 
Dead ! Nevermore to be. 
Dead ! Evermore to me. 
Dead ! Evermore to me. 
Dead ! Dead ! Ah !— Dead to ME I 



46 SONGS 



WEEP NOT FOR HIM. 

Weep not for him who, in the battle dying, 
Lives in the lays of those he sought to save ; 

Weep not for him who on the cold turf lying. 
Finds in his native land a patriot's grave ; 

Weep not for him for whom the night wind, sighing, 
Spreads o'er his bier the banner of the brave ; 

But, o'er the ashes of the dead hussar, 

Shout to the thunder and the trump of war. 

Go weep for her who, by her Love's side sighing, 
Gives to the grave the form she loved so well ; 

And weep for her who meets no soft replying 
To the sweet story she would die to tell ; 

Aye, weep for her whose Love, to Lethe flying, 
Left on her lip no mark of his farewell ; 

Oh, weep for her whose star of life is dim ; 

Weep, weep for her; but weep no more for him. 



SONGS 4T 



TARRY YE NOT IN EGYPT. 

The Lord is wroth Avith Pharaoh's men, 

Tarry ye not in Egypt ! 
He hath raised His strong arm to smite furrow and fen, 
And he'll smite them and smite them again and again. 

Tarry ye not, 

Tarry ye not, 

Tarry ye not in Egypt ! 
The Lord is wroth with Pharaoh's men, 
He hath raised His strong arm to smite furrow and fen, 
And he'll smite them and smite them again and again, 

So tarry no longer in Egypt. 

The Lord hath set His sign in the sky. 

Tarry ye not in Egypt ! 
And all the first-born in the land shall die, 
The fathers shall perish, the mothers shall sigh. 

Tarry ye not, 

Tarry ye not. 

Tarry ye not in Egypt ! 
The Lord hath set His sign in the sky. 
And all the first-born m the land shall die ; 
The fathers shall perish, the mothers shall sigh, 

So tarry no longer in Egypt ! 

The Lord hath hardened the heart of the King, 
Tarry ye not in Egypt ! 



48 SONGS 

So the creatures that crawl and the insects that sting 
Will add terror to life and bring death on the wing. 

Tarry ye not, 

Tarry ye not, 

Tarry ye not in Egypt ! 
The Lord hath hardened the heart of the King, 
So the creatures that crawl and the insects that sting 
Will add terror to life and bring death on the wing, 

So tarry no longer in Egypt ! 

There is blood on the river and blood on the door. 

Tarry ye not in Egypt ! 
The land shall be red on the sea and the shore, 
And the blood of the Ruler shall reign nevermore. 

Tarry ye not. 

Tarry ye not. 

Tarry ye not in Egypt ! 
There is blood on the river and blood on the door, ^ 
The land shall be red on the sea and the shore, 
And the blood of the Ruler shall reign nevermore, 

So tarry no longer in Egypt ! 



SONGS 49 



GIF A LASSIE SPURN A LADDIE. 

GIF a lassie spurn a laddie 

Wi' her needless Nays, 
Thraves will pet the hapless plaidie 

Wi' their loving ways ; 
So, if Kirsty blaw him cauldly 

As a winter day, 
Bess and Belle will bless him bauldly 

Wi' the breath of May. 

Prudery still affects the valley. 

Shady and alane, 
Meeting souls that loveward sally, 

ley as a stane. 
On the mountain true Love singeth, 

Liberty is there ; 
DaUiance wingeth, Pleasure springeth. 

From her waving hair. 

On the peaks abide the pleasures. 

Young and sweet and free. 
Yoked with Youth's immortal treasures, 

Love and Liberty ; 
So, the hilltops seek while soaring, 

Eaglet of Love's sky ; 
Light adorned and Light adoring, 

Bask, and burn and die. 



50 SONGS 



THE AMERICAN CONSUMMATION. 

The day of War is over 

When, to please a Prince alone, 
A thousand slaughtered wretches 

Were to the eagles thrown. 
There is gloom upon its glorv, 

There is rust upon its sword, 
For the day of Peace is dawning 

In the coming of the Lord. 

Arise in Christian manhood 

And join the joyous throng, 
With Jesus in your music 

And His mercy in your song ; 
For His blood hath been the ransom 

For the World, for you, for me, 
And His love o'erflows the mountains 

In an everlasting sea. 

For the Christ who rose in glory 

Shall return to earth the same, 
And the warring hosts shall vanish 

At the voicing of His name ; 
And the stars shall flash new splendors 

At the fulness of His grace, 
For the Heavens reflect His glory, 

And the Earth shall show His face. 



SOKGS 51 

Then, with Mercy in the mighty, 

And forgiveness in the strong. 
The meek shall be our judges, 

And the Right shall rule the Wrong; 
And, with one acclaim, all peoples 

Will the Love of Jesus praise, 
And their Glory Hallelujahs 

Shall fill the happy days. 



52 SONGS 



THE YOUNG VETS. 

We all know the face of the chap who can tell 

How he led the victorious van, 
Through whose terrible yell all the enemy fell 

Or fled from this murderous man. 

We all know the pate of the chap who was late, 

Too late for a wound or a scar, 
A year or two late for a soldierly fate, 

And twenty too late for the war. 

We all know the voice of Goliah the Great, 

Who never smelt powder, you know. 
Who came to the field of battle too late 

To give little David a show. 

We all know the taje of the chap who delights 

To tell all the girls he can find 
Of the terrible sights, of the feuds and the fights, 

That he fought in the depths of his mind. 

On a Century Map, we all know the chap 
Who can trace his proud place without fear, 

Who claims the drum-tap found him first in the gap^ 
Though he skulked forty miles in the rear. 



SONGS 5^ 



MAIDEN KNICKERBOCKER AND THE 
GALLANT CAPTAIN PICKWICK. 

MAIDEN. 

O MY gallant Captain, whither and away ? 
Know'st thou Jersey Pirates smuggle in the bay ? 
Won't you take me with you for a little fly? 
If the Pirates catch you, I'U shoot 'em with my eye. 

CAPTAIN. 

Come, Manhattan Maiden, share the sailor's pains. 
If the Pirates catch me, save me from their chains. 
Meantime mark the sailor mount the topmast high, 
Till his trim tarpauUn almost scrapes the sky, 
LujBlng to the starboard, tacking o'er the bay, 
Thus Manhattan Captains sail their lives away. 

MAIDEN. 

Who's the girl out yonder reaching up so high, 
With her jack-o'-lantern darkening up the sky? 
Do you think she's pretty? Do you think it pays 
Standing up so bare like, with no polonaise ? 

CAPTAIN. 

Now, Manhattan Maiden, 'tis the Law Marine 
No form but that of Captain must on this Bay be seen ; 
So look at me, my maiden, mark my windward eye, 
Neptune his sweet Venus loves no more than I. 



54 SONGS 

Luffing to the starboard, tacking o'er the bay, 
Thus the loving Captain sails his life away. 

MAIDEN. 

What are those far Highlands, blue as Beauty's eye, 
Looking like the islands of an upper sky? 
Take me to their summits that I may explore 
All the caves and creatures I never saw before. 

CAPTAIN. 

'Tis a mystic saying: ** He who seeks that shore 
Fades and then his fate is never heard of more." 
Such a distant prospect seek not now to spy, 
Let one loving sailor fill your starry eye. 
Luffing to the starboard, tacking o'er the Bay, 
Thus the gallant Captain sails his hfe away. 

MAIDEN. 

Where is the Atlantic ? I've heard grandfather say 
He sailed on its huge surge from Holland far away, 
O take me to the Ocean where the steamer sails, 
A wonder to the lubbers and terror to the whales. 

CAPTAIN. 

Lubbers' yarns ! My Maiden, trust you what I say, 
There never was an Ocean — nothing but this Bay, 
And if you'll be my bride, the whole world we'll explore, 
In sight of New York Harbor and Staten Island shore. 
Luffing to the starboard, tacking o'er the Bay, 
Thus the married Captain sails his life away. 



SONGS 55 



IT IS TIME TO BEGIN TO CONCLUDE. 

Ye Parsons, desirous all sinners to save, 

And to make each a prig or a prude, 
If two thousand long years have not made us behave, 

It is time you began to conclude. 

Ye Husbands, who wish your sweet mates to grow mum» 
And whose tongues you have never subdued. 

If ten years of your reign have not made them grow 
dumb, 
It is time to begin to conclude. 

Ye Matrons of men whose brown meerschaum still mars 

The sweet kiss with tobacco bedewed. 
After pleading nine years, if they still puff cigars, 

It is time you began to conclude. 

Ye Lawyers, who aim to reform all the land. 

And your statutes forever intrude, 
If five thousand lost years have not worked as yoa 
planned, 

It is time to begin to conclude. 

Ye Lovers, who sigh for the heart of a maid. 
And for forty-four years have pursued, 

If two scores of young years have not taught you your 
trade. 
It is time you began to conclude. 



58 SONGS 

Ye Doctors, who claim to cure every ill, 

And so much of mock learning exude, 
If the Comma Bacillus still laughs at your pill, 

It is time to begin to conclude. 

Te Maidens of Fifty who lonely abide, 

Yet who heartily scout soHtude, 
If Jack with his whiskers is not at your side, 

It is time to begin to conclude. 

Ye Spaniards, akin to the Mexican mule. 
And who have not fair Cuba subdued. 

After three bloody years of your miscreant rule, 
It is time you began to conclude. 

'We commend to your mind Bill McKinley's big toe 

In a boot that is rugged and rude, 
When that boot and that toe give you notice to go, 

It is time to begin to conclude. 

"Walk Spanish from Cuba, with Miles at your heel, 
And by Fitz Hugh the Southron pursued, 

Or you'll learn from a thrust of American steel 
That it's time you began to conclude. 

And Sigsbee will soon shoot it all very plain 

Into Blanco's most murderous brood, 
That the cry from the blood of the Men of the Maine 

Makes it meet for mere talk to conclude. 



SONGS 57 



MARSHAL NEY'S FAREWELL. 

Adieu to France ! Land of the Brave, farewell ! 

Sleep sweetly there, thy sons will watch by thee, 
High as thy hills their burning blood will swell, 

To leave thee as they find thee, fair and free. 
The nations gaze and tremble at thy spell, 

A vision of eternal Liberty, 
Emerging from a swift and bloody birth, 
The terror, wonder, glory of the earth. 

Yet, France, farewell ! One son may find his grave 
Beneath thy soil, and leave thee marching still, 

Napoleon with his millions of the brave. 
Along the paths of glory, at thy will. 

Soldiers, farewell! And when your banners wave 
Above my bones beside some nameless hill. 

Stop not the thunder of your glorious tread. 

To mark me sleeping with th' inglorious dead. 

And farewell. Foes! Brave hearts and grand of soul; 

We fought in fierceness, now in peace we part. 
My luckless heart hath ever been the goal 

Sought by your sabres, but in vain, O Heart ! 
Welcome to death amid the drum's far roll. 

Great souls, where I no more will dare your dart. 
'Tis best to die where war's bluff banners wave. 
Swathed in your guerdon, "Bravest of the brave." 



58 . SONGS 

Farewell, the storm-voiced Steed ! the hero Horse, 
That snuffs the battle's sulphury breath afar ; 

The proudest form, the best compacted force. 
That hurls the earthquake on the field of war. 

^o more I'll ride, on his terrific course, 

That meteor maddened through the lines ajar. 

While the foe, blanching at the onset, reels 

Before his breath and thunder of his heels. 

Farewell, volcanic din, Olympian brattle. 

The bursting bomb, the thousand-throated cheer^ 

Tartarean roar, the volleyed rifle rattle. 
The rocket's lightning line of fire and fear. 

I sought my fate 'mid foes in brilliant battle. 
Gorging with souls the hungry atmosphere ; 

I find my fate from one cold coward's command, 

A dozen bullets, and a friendly hand. 

Thus I, once Michael Ney, Marshal of France, 
And soon a heap of dust, dishonored, sink ; — 

I, who have vanned the Empire's fierce advance 
In triple continents of fame to drink, 

And bore its backward but still levelled lance 
From Borodino to the icy brink 

Of Beresina ; thence defiance hurled 

To the Unked thunders of th' embattled world. 

JHo bandage bring. Stark-eyed the hero dies. 
Do you not know that thus for twenty years 



SONGS 59 

I've faced both ball and bullet ! — for no prize 

But weal of France, my country? In man's ears, 

Yea, and before God's all-beholding eyes, 

I swear I never wronged her. But Death nears. 

Marshal no more, behold a man expire ! 

So now, make ready ! Aim ! Dear comrades, fire ! 



60 SONGS 



THE LILY LAND OF FRANCE. 

With pensive memories 

We part the Ocean foam, 
To find 'neatli summer skies 

A country and a home. 
O hly land of France, 

Farewell! Farewell, Paris! {Pa-ree) 
Farewell to Life's romance ! 

Welcome the sounding sea ! 

Soon, soon, our fading forms 

Recede into the sea, 
Which, dark with all its storms, 

Will veil our hearts from thee. 
O lily land of France, 

Farewell! Farewell, Paris! 
Farewell to Life's romance ! 

Welcome the sounding sea ! 

Li vain, in farther climes, 

Athwart the sweeping sea, 
We seek, in other times. 

The heaven we've lost in thee. 
O lily land of France, 

Farewell! Farewell, Paris! 
Farewell to Life's romance ! 

Welcome the sounding sea 1 



SONGS 61 

THE THREE P'S. 
The Pratie, The Pia and Poteen. 

'Tis daily this baste 

Will prosade to the fayste, 
The best that Ould Oireland has seen ; 

The P's are but three, 

But they're plenty for me, — 
The Pratie, the Pig, the Poteen. 

The Pratie, in place, 

Has an iligant face. 
That my mouth opens wide to let in, 

But, like Widow Machree, 

He's so glad to see me, 
That he laughs himself out of his shkin. 

He's so round and so square, 

As he laughs at me there, 
That he looks loike my brother, I ween; 

Then I put him to cool 

On the top of a shtool, 
Till I take a wee drop of Poteen. 

Then I put him to cool 

On the top of a shtool, 
Till I take a wee drop of Poteen. 



63 SONGS 

But gourmands, ahoy ! 

The Pig is the Boy ! 
Indade he's the girl to my taste ; 

The form is so nate, 

The hp is so swate, 
That I kape her quite close to my waist. 

But no cannibal I, 

When I look in her eye, 
The loikes to my sister is seen ; 

So I piously pause 

In the work of my jaws. 
Till I take a wee drop of Poteen. 

So I piously pause 

In the work of my jaws. 
Till I take a wee drop of Poteen. 

Lave the Pratie to cool 

On the top of the shtool, 
While we master this question of shtate, 

Shall I ate? Shall I swig? 

Musht Poteen or the Pig 
Be the first or the last on my plate ? 

Now my grandfather's ghost 

Appears at this post, 
So solemn, so awful in mien, 

To assist and debate 

This question of shtate 
On the subject of Pork and Poteen. 



SONGS 63 

So he called for his mug, 

And I gave him the jug, 
Which he placed at his dehcate mouth, 

And he drank it all down, 

Down, down, Derry down, 
He had such a terrible drouth. 

Then, with jug held on high, 

And Poteen in his eye, 
He says — this good ghost says to me : 

' ' Hist ! Hist ! Patrick, hist ! 

And hould ye your whist 
While I shpake out this Scripture to thee. 

'Tis Hibernian Law 

That, for Oireland's ould jaw. 
If, at pig-faystes, you ate, shpake or swig, 

If you have a great mind, 

You surely will find 
The Poteen's the best part of the Pig. 

'Tis Hibernian Law 

That, for Oireland's ould jaw. 
If, at pig-faystes, you ate, shpake or swig, 

If you have a great mind. 

You surely will find 
The Poteen's the best part of the Pig." 

So, since that great day, — 
Or that night I may say, — 



64: SONGS 

I cook nothing else for to ate ; 
By the hole o' my coat, 
It bates Houlahan's goat 

In putting Pat ofE of his fate. 
So, for Erin go bragh, 
'Tis both Gospel and Law 

For to ate, or to shpake or to swig, 
If you have a. great mind, 
You surely will find 

The Poteen's the best part of the pig ! 

The Poteen's the best part of the pig ! 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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